


oh, the world still deceives you as it turns

by wyverning



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, AtLA AU, Avatar the Last Airbender AU, Found Family, Lack of Communication, M/M, Miscommunication, Slow Burn, avatar!neil, canon-typical violence and past abuse, deception as a coping mechanism, developing feelings over time, earthbender!andrew, eventual pining, lying, neil running away from his problems as per usual, we are just getting started lads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyverning/pseuds/wyverning
Summary: The Avatar, bender of all four elements, should bring peace and harmony to the four nations. The Avatar should serve as a beacon of hope across the world. The Avatar should be an omnipresent, mediating power, though it's been nearly twenty years since the previous Avatar died and still no successor has arisen. The Avatar definitely shouldnotbe Neil Josten, who does not give a single damn about anything but surviving while on the run.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 32
Kudos: 122





	1. book one: part one

**Author's Note:**

> fuck betas. fuck edits. fuck fleshing a whole-ass plot out
> 
> we take the inspiration train and ride it, even if it means ignoring your other WIP multichaps
> 
> follow my expedient descent into insanity [here on twitter](https://www.twitter.com/wyverning)

“Shit,” Neil swears as he tears through the marketplace, weaving in and out between shopping stalls at a rapid pace. His heart pounds like it’s making a bid to escape his chest, and he’s tempted to light one of the canvas umbrellas nearby on fire to cause a distraction.

He’s tempted, but not a complete idiot.

It’s just his luck that he’s drawn the attention of the Dai Li. Three weeks of laying low in Ba Sing Se had seemed to be a blessing, but now his luck has run out. They want to question him because they’d caught him pilfering some food from a nearby stand, but they’ll do much more to him if they find out he’s a bender.

“Shit,” he curses again. Hunger gnaws at his stomach as he runs, the fruit he’s stolen hitting against his chest with the rhythm of his footfalls. It had been a bad stroke of luck: an officer patrolling nearby had heard the outraged cry of a shopkeep moments after Neil had slipped out of sight. He’d tried to stay calm, to walk away at a pace normal enough to go unnoticed amongst the bustling crowd, but then he’d thought he'd recognized the face of one of the guards, and everything his mother had taught him over the years about stealth and keeping his composure had fallen entirely to the wayside.

She’d looked like one of Riko’s Raven Eagles — a tall, stout woman who had delighted in tormenting Neil whenever she’d been given permission — and panic had gripped him hard enough that all rationality had fled his mind. Neil’s instincts had taken over, and he’d run.

A terrible decision, Neil knows now. He only looks more suspicious for having fled, and they’ve managed to track him even through the busy markets. Neil’s best bet, while they’re on high alert, is to find somewhere to hide. Continuously running around will just attract more attention.

Cursing his own stupidity for the millionth time, Neil finally sprints by a dark alleyway. It’s quiet and out of the way, nestled in between two nondescript buildings, and he doubles back before ducking into it.

It’s only because Neil’s head is turned, trying to spot if the officers are still tailing him, that he crashes into the guy.

Whoever’s just gotten in Neil’s way feels like a brick wall, unmoving as Neil slams into him at full tilt. He collapses, the very breath knocked out of him, and his stolen food goes flying from the wrapped-up cloth he’d been concealing it in. 

“Rabbits should watch where they’re going,” the man says, just barely loud enough to be heard above the pounding in Neil’s ears. Sprawled out on the ground, Neil belatedly sees dirt receding from around pale, sandalled ankles. He’s a bender, that much is clear, and he’d anticipated Neil coming with enough time to summon earth around his feet and effectively ground him from Neil’s unintentional full-body assault.

Immediately, Neil is on high alert.

It’s not that he doesn’t inherently trust benders, but — that’s definitely part of it. And an earthbender who is clearly beyond competent at his craft has alarm bells ringing loudly in Neil’s head.

“Sorry,” he says when he finally catches his breath. He scrambles to his knees, grabbing at the now-bruised pieces of fruit that litter the alleyway with the intent of fleeing as quickly as possible. The guy doesn’t know anything about him, he reassures himself. Just that he was in a hurry.

The bender — shorter than Neil by a hair, with curled blond hair and an impassive gaze — tilts his head to the side, almost curiously. With the panic of the chase, Neil hadn’t been paying attention to much else, but he realizes now that the alley is deceptively quiet.

A quick glance behind him reveals what Neil had been dreading: the entrance to the alleyway has been walled off, trapping him with the earthbender. 

“What,” Neil starts as a sinking feeling settles in his stomach. It appears he’s not safe, even now. There’s nothing less that Neil would prefer to do than bend, but he slowly gets to his feet, breathing deeply and preparing himself for the worst. 

If it comes down to it, he’ll do anything to survive.

“What is this?” Neil asks.

“Oh,” he says, waving a nonchalant hand in the direction of the newly-constructed wall sealing them away from the rest of the market. “I’m helping you, of course.”

The words have goosepimples rising all over Neil’s arms, and he narrows his eyes in distrust. “Don’t think I asked for any help.”

The earthbender flashes his teeth at Neil, but it’s more of a snarl than a grin. “There are six Dai Li agents hunting for you right now.”

Distrust transforms into wariness. “How do you know that?”

“And give up my secrets so soon? Take me on a date, first.”

Neil tires of whatever the hell’s going on. His gut instinct is telling him this man’s dangerous, that he’s being dishonest about offering _help._ He takes up a fighting stance, generic enough to pass as something even a non-bender would know. “I don’t want or need your help. Drop the wall and let me go.”

“See, now,” the earthbender says, and a pillar of solid earth shoots up from the ground. He leans against it, casually, like Neil isn’t more threatening than a fly. “I don’t appreciate having the Fire Lord’s spies interfering with my business, and six of them _is_ an awful lot for one fruit thief, don’t you think?”

Neil pales. Could it be possible that the agent really _was_ one of Riko’s, that she’d recognized him instantly, that he needs to get out of Ba Sing Se as fast as he can and that means that he can’t fight with fire despite the fact that he’d like nothing more than to burn this asshole to a crisp —

The blond spares him no mercy. “What do they really want with you?”

Antagonizing a skilled earthbender isn’t Neil’s greatest idea, especially not when he’s fairly trapped between a rock and a hard bastard, but he still can’t help it when he snarls back, “And give up my secrets so soon?”

“Oh,” the earthbender says quietly. “Oh, interesting. But being interesting doesn’t exempt you from being _trouble.”_

Without warning, rocks fly in Neil’s direction. He’s not sure precisely where they’re coming from, not with the shadows and the fact that earth surrounds him, and he only manages to dodge the few that would have done the most harm.

The hit he’s taken to his ribs will definitely bruise, and Neil grits his teeth as he spins on his heel rapidly, trying to gauge from where the next wave of earth and stone will come from.

He can handle a beating, though minimizing the damage is his immediate priority.

A door opens into the alleyway, interrupting the next onslaught of rock and debris already floating in the air, and an irritated voice calls out, “Andrew, they’re gone. I know _you_ know they’re gone, but Nicky won’t stop—“

He cuts himself off when he sees the earthbender — Andrew — isn’t alone, and every muscle in Neil’s body freezes.

Kevin Day, one of the most talented firebenders known across the four nations and Neil’s former best friend, leans out of the doorway. Neil would recognize him even without the burn scar that spans half the length of his body, and he’s stuck motionless with shock.

Kevin’s gaze shifts away from Andrew, and Neil can do absolutely nothing as he stares directly at him and gasps, disbelievingly, “Nathaniel?”


	2. book one: part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil meets the Catfox Court, and lies, and lies, and lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (coughs blood) it's exposition time, baybee

When Nathaniel had been a child, an unfathomable amount of years away from the day he’d be forced to shed his name and become an array of false identities and deceptions, he’d been told how lucky he was.

“You all,” the Fire Lord had said, sweeping a hand around the dazzled, earnest faces of Riko, Jean, Kevin, and Nathaniel as they’d looked wide-eyed and awed at the most powerful figure in the country, “have been graced with the magic of our world. Firebenders of the highest caliber, and one of you has been chosen to lead us into a new era.”

At such a young age, they hadn’t truly understood the power of an Avatar. The weight of such responsibility was inconceivable to the four children told that they would grow up together until the day one of them revealed their true abilities, though it had seemed like the most fantastical of fairy tales. They’d chased after the glory with the enthusiasm of childish youth.

Immediately, Fire Lord Kengo had hired the most prestigious tutors to teach them. Living in the royal palace, learning from educational and bending masters, had felt like a dream, and Nathaniel thrived in the presence of the others. Though they shared no blood, they grew as close as brothers.

Firebending lessons had always been Nathaniel’s favorite time of the day. Their master was a savage brute of a man who spared no mercy for their childish antics, but working with him meant that Nathaniel would be away from his father and his men for the span of an entire day. It meant that maybe an adult would praise him for his hard work, rather than raise a hand to him when he didn’t quite succeed on the first try.

Though the birth of his son, coinciding so closely with the other children, had elevated Nathan Wesninski’s power until he was one of the Fire Lord’s chief admirals, his idea of familial love had always been one that Nathaniel flinched away from.

Privately, Nathaniel hoped the responsibility of the Avatar fell to Kevin. Riko was too angry, Jean was too quiet, and Neil was too selfish. But Kevin had natural talent, and though he was blunt and brusque and often spoke without thinking, he was also kind and genuine in a way the rest of them were not.

Things hadn’t been perfect, of course.

The older they got, the more often Riko would go too far. The more often his father’s men would pull Nathaniel away from spending time with Kevin and Jean in favor of teaching him more _practical_ methods regarding how the world really worked.

Despite it all — the fractal scars of his father’s lightning racing down his spine, the razor-thin, crisscrossing cuts marring Neil’s arms and hands from Lola’s more creative methods of airbending torture, the endless bruises from Riko’s beatings whenever any of them performed better than him — Nathaniel had thought he’d been happy.

He’d had his mom. He’d had Kevin and Jean, and even Riko when he was in a good mood and brought them delicious, extravagant foods from his father’s kitchens. 

And then the day had come when Nathaniel had excitedly shown his mother a new firebending stance he and Kevin had just learned, and he’d lost his balance. A truly innocuous thing, except for the panic Nathaniel had felt at the idea of falling, though he’d done it countless times before. In a rush of impulsivity, he’d called upon his bending to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.

And then a column of earth had shot out of the dirt to meet his off-balance foot, righting Nathaniel until he was no longer in danger of falling.

And then everything had been ruined. 

* * *

Neil can scarcely breathe. There’s an alarming screech in his head that sounds identical to his mother’s voice, screaming at him to run. _You stupid little fool,_ she hisses at him. _You thought you could hide in Ba Sing Se? Maybe you_ do _deserve to die._

But Neil can’t run. He can’t even move, stuck to the spot and frozen in fear as Kevin stares him down. 

“Nathaniel,” Kevin says again, carelessly, like the name that Neil’s tried to outrun for the past decade doesn’t hold the weight behind it that it _does_ , and this time his words sound more like a demand than an exclamation of surprise. “Is it really you?”

He knows he should lie. _Needs_ to lie. But for the first time since his mother had died at the hands of firebenders with cruel grins, he finds it hard to. Kevin knows who he is. He’s possibly one of the only people who really does.

Neil nods.

Running is still a necessity, the only one Neil knows at this point. But maybe he can stop for just a moment. Catch his breath in the comfort of Kevin’s presence before he flees again. The risk of being _known_ is almost too precarious to risk, but Neil’s exhausted.

Just for a moment. 

It’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid — there’s no real reason to trust Kevin, not after the yawning years between them that they’ve spent apart.

“Spirits,” Kevin swears, and then he’s lunging from the doorway and into the alley. For a startled second, Neil isn’t sure if he’s going to attack him, but regardless of Kevin’s intent — to swing a fist at him, to try and burn him with their shared element, to embrace him — they’re intercepted.

There’s a flat sheet of bedrock separating Neil and Kevin that wasn’t there a heartbeat ago, and from his position Neil can see Andrew glaring in his direction. 

“Who are you,” Andrew asks, the question completely toneless.

“Nobody,” Neil tries, just as Kevin says, “Nathaniel grew up with Jean, Riko, and me.”

Well, there goes any attempt at skirting around the truth. Kevin’s penchant for speaking without thinking is something Neil definitely hasn’t missed.

Andrew hums. “That’s what I thought. You know, Kevin, it’d be easier to uphold our agreement if you didn’t willfully throw yourself into danger.”

“Nathaniel’s safe,” Kevin insists. “He’d never—”

 _“Nathaniel_ is a liar with a heart rate that’d put a dragonfly hummingbird to shame,” Andrew says. Neil can’t hide his flinch. “Trust him and you’ll likely get a knife to the back.”

“You’ve trapped me,” Neil argues, weakly. He can’t afford to let the cocktail of anger and desperation simmering in his veins to boil over: this identity he’s adopted does not and _cannot_ have Nathaniel’s fiery temper. “It doesn’t exactly put someone at peace.”

Kevin takes a step back, away from Andrew’s constructed earthen wall. “I trust him,” he says, firmly. “He left years before… everything. Regardless, I need to know what happened. Let him inside.”

The wall dissolves into dust, though not before Andrew sends a hefty chunk of it hurtling in Kevin’s direction. He only manages to dodge it by a hair. “These demands of yours would drive a lesser man to homicide. Still considering it, really.”

With Andrew’s barrier dissipated, Kevin gestures toward the door he’d left open. “That’s as good of an approval as we’ll get,” he says, like Andrew’s threat of murder is meaningless. Neil stares at him, but he realizes after a moment that there’s nothing to do but follow him inside. Andrew’s wall sealing off the alleyway is still constructed, and the doorway is his only escape from what he’s positive is an earthbender who wouldn’t spare a second thought toward killing him.

Neil hadn’t had the time to consider the building in intense detail when he’d been on the run from the Dai Li, though he takes it in now. It doesn’t seem particularly significant, just boring, bland architecture that blends in with the streets around it.

“Renee’s still out,” Kevin says as he leads them down a dark, winding hallway. “She distracted enough of the Dai Li that they won’t have noticed you constructing a fake wall, though Dan was about to chew you out for doing something so stupid and obvious. I see now why you did it, but would it kill you to bend a little less ostentatiously?”

“Kevin,” Andrew drawls, keeping pace with Neil so closely it quickly it’s clear that he’s intentionally dogging his steps. “Shut up before my ostentatious bending kills _you_.”

The hallway finally spits them out into some sort of sitting room, and Neil’s instincts are on high alert as he evaluates the space. There are only two exits — two doors at either end of the far wall — other than the hallway at his back, and while the large table at the center of the room is empty, the couches and chairs lining the other walls are occupied by a variety of people who stare in his direction upon their entrance.

“Welcome,” Kevin says, though Neil can hardly hear him, as distracted by the sight in front of him as he is, “to the Catfox Court.”

Neil had anticipated a quiet, tucked-away room to talk with Kevin, but this is nothing like he expected. It’s far more dangerous than he could have predicted.

A tall man with dark, spiked-up hair that adds significantly to his height shifts from the wall he’s leaning against. Tucked against his hip, Neil can see the curve of a blade’s sheath. “Who’s this?”

“Introductions aren’t necessary,” Neil says shortly, keeping an eye on the weapon. It’s a dadao — Fire Nation soldier weaponry — though the man’s coloring is far too dissimilar for him to be a conscript. “I’m leaving soon.”

In the face of whatever the Catfox Court is, Neil knows this is the only real course of action. He’s not interested in sticking around — remaining in one place for too long will only shine a beacon on him, and he’s already attracted unwanted attention — and Kevin leading him directly to these strangers is just further evidence that he doesn’t really know _who_ Kevin Day is, anymore. 

“No, you’re not,” another unfamiliar voice says. It’s the woman reclining on the couch with a high, blonde ponytail pulled tight at the top of her head. “Kevin never brings anyone new. We’ve got to know why you’ve come to _us_ for help.”

“Nathaniel grew up with me,” Kevin says, brushing off whatever insult is implicit in those words. “I trust him.”

Someone who looks exactly like Andrew snorts in disbelief. “You trusted Riko, too.”

“Fuck off, Aaron,” the guy next to him says, jostling Andrew’s clone, Aaron, roughly. “That was different, and you know it.”

“So he’s one of—” the man with the sword starts.

Neil has no idea what’s going on, and his skin prickles uncomfortably with these utter strangers speculating about him. _“What do they know?”_ he murmurs to Kevin, defaulting to an isolated, small island dialect from the Fire Nation that they’d learned ages ago. 

Something like a mixture of relief and hesitance settles in Kevin’s eyes. _“They know everything. It was hard to hide once I arrived,"_ he says, and then gestures at the burn scars spanning the length of his arm.

Over the years, Neil has gained enough intel to know that Riko had done far more damage than merely charring Kevin’s arm. In a fit of rage, he’d learned from his mother’s spies across the nations, Riko had tried to kill Kevin in an unauthorized, unsupervised Agni Kai. Immediately after the match, Kevin had fled to the Earth Kingdom, where news of him had gone silent until Neil ran into him in a Ba Sing Se back alley.

 _They know everything._ Though Kevin may believe that, it’s certainly not the truth, but Neil can work with it.

“What is this place?” he asks. It’s a safe question, one that will bring him more clarity before he decides what else to divulge.

Andrew surprises Neil — and possibly everyone else, judging by the way their heads snap in the earthbender’s direction — by answering him. “A refuge for sob stories and broken people,” he says, laying a dramatic hand over his heart. “Our savior, David Wymack, rates how heartbreaking your life story is before assigning you some sort of miserable job to keep his shitty business afloat.”

Well, that explains why Kevin’s here. Kevin hadn’t found out about his father until just before Neil had left. Initially, Neil had thought that had been the source of Riko’s infamous rage — Kevin’s mother had died in childbirth, and surrounded by the Moriyama family, he’d been told to forfeit any and all family that wasn’t directly tied to royal blood — after Kevin had found a letter from Kayleigh that had never been sent to Kevin’s father announcing her pregnancy.

This is where Kevin belongs, Neil realizes. He doesn’t understand the myriad of people present, and why they’ve chosen to stay, but he can respect that maybe Kevin’s found a place to survive beyond the vast outreach of the Fire Nation. Neil needs to get out of here quickly, though, before he leads anyone to Kevin. He’s a goner, has known that from the day he’d been stupid enough to earthbend, but that doesn’t mean Kevin doesn’t deserve a chance at living outside of the Fire Lord’s shadow. 

But — before he leaves, he needs to know what’s happened to Jean. He can do anything with the closure that his brothers are alright.

“Ah,” Neil says in response to Andrew’s proclamation. “Well, um. Good for you all.”

They’re all quiet for a bit, before Kevin lifts a hand in Neil’s direction, like he’s reaching out for him. The motion is aborted before they touch, though, and then Kevin asks, too-quiet, “Well, is it true? Are you the Avatar?”

 _No,_ every ounce of Neil screams. _No, I will never be this world’s savior._ It doesn’t even feel like a lie.

“I can barely even firebend,” Neil says, hoping his voice doesn’t shake. “I’m not the Avatar.”

“Then why leave?” Kevin bursts out, frustration overtaking him. “You had to have known it would only cause a manhunt for you. We thought that was why you left so quickly. It's the only thing that makes sense.”

In any other situation, Neil might’ve smiled. The pragmatic response reminds him of how fierce Kevin’s always been, blunt and desperately thirsting for knowledge that will make him stronger. As it is, Neil averts his gaze, considering the best way to weave truths into the lie that has made up his entire existence.

They’re not alone, either, and whatever Neil says, these strangers will also hear. “I don’t know all the details,” he starts. “But my mom wasn’t loyal to the Fire Nation.” Everyone must already know about the alignment of Neil’s birth with Kevin and the others and Kengo’s attempt at grooming the future Avatar into complicity, so he pushes on. “It wasn’t a coincidence that she got pregnant when she did, not when she was sent to infiltrate the palace after learning how closely the Fire Lord was monitoring the Avatar cycle.”

Neil continues slowly, swallowing thickly at the several pairs of eyes trained on him. “When we turned ten, and nobody had — had presented any evidence that they might’ve been the Avatar, she went looking for answers. She — she found the real Avatar, Kevin. And it wasn’t any of us.”

This is the trickiest part of his lie. Neil watches as the others surge into motion at his words. 

“That means they’re _out there—”_

“The Avatar is still alive!?”

“What else does he know? If we can find them—”

“Who,” Kevin says. The word is quiet, but it cuts through the exclamations of the other Catfoxes.

“I don’t know.” Anxiety churns through Neil. He can redirect them away from himself, but only if they believe what he says next. He owes it to Kevin to meet his eyes as he continues. “But mom took me and we ran. She knew Riko was unstable, and didn’t want me there when he lashed out after finding out he wasn’t the chosen one.”

Kevin pales as the realization hits him, and he says, faintly, “And you didn’t take me with you?”

The guilt settles in Neil’s gut, sour and nauseating. “There wasn’t enough time.” It’s only partially a lie, yet Neil takes no comfort in it. Hurting Kevin is a necessary evil.

“What a tragic tale,” Andrew interjects. Neil had forgotten entirely how focused the earthbender had been on him, and he realizes with a jolt that such intense scrutiny may very well be his downfall. Had he unintentionally revealed anything that would be his undoing? “Where’s mommy dearest?”

“Dead,” Neil grits out, meeting that placid golden gaze. “My father’s men caught up with us in Jang Hui and killed her. I barely got away.”

“Nathaniel— ”

“That isn’t my name, anymore. I go by Neil.” 

“Neil,” Kevin says. “They won’t just kill you for this. They’ll want to know everything you know about the real Avatar. They’ll destroy you to find them.”

Oh, if only Kevin knew. “Why do you think I’ve been running?”

“But if we can find them first, then this could change everything. None of us had confirmation, so we’ve been lying low, and we feared the worst. That Kengo has found the Avatar, that the cycle’s been damaged somehow, that there’s no hope…”

“I want no part in your suicide mission,” Neil says, and it’s perhaps the most truthful thing he’s said in years. “I don’t know anything. My mom refused to tell me much, and she’s dead now.”

“Nothing? Not even a single lead?”

Neil used to admire Kevin’s inability to give up. He’d learn of a new firebending technique, and would run himself ragged until he’d mastered it, regardless of how long it took or how difficult it was. Now, though, his persistence will lead to nothing but Neil’s death.

“The Air Temples,” Neil says, already plotting a course for the Southern Water Tribes. A false lead will give him enough time to vanish completely and not be found. “I don’t know which one. I wish I could help you more, but I need to go.”

The blonde on the couch waves a hand in the air. “Oh, come on. The Dai Li aren’t a problem right now, and you look dead on your feet. Stay with us for a while.”

Neil’s about to reject her, but Kevin says, in the language only they share, _“I need to tell you about Jean.”_

He wants to run. His instincts are telling him to get out of here, _now,_ before they start to poke holes in his story, but this is possibly the only chance he’ll get to know for sure how both Kevin and Jean are faring.

“Just for tonight,” Neil says, shaky. Something disquieting like hope laces through him; surely one night of rest won’t kill him.

The guy sitting next to Aaron crows cheerfully. “Oh, perfect! You can stay with me if you want, Neil, my bed’s big enough for two.”

“Disgusting, Nicky,” Aaron growls. Neil files away the various names he’s learning, an instinctual survival habit. 

In the flurry of excitement as the others begin to discuss where to house Neil for the evening, a voice, congealed with put-upon sweetness, whispers into Neil’s ear. “The little rabbit is lying,” Andrew says, and there's the press of something metal and sharp against his neck. “If I cut him open, will the truth bleed out?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, an ATLA nerd: i love every instance of hybrid animals in this universe and will reference them as often as i can legally get away with  
> also me, remembering that one episode with bumi's rabbit, which is definitely just a whole-ass rabbit and not an animal hybrid: :(


	3. book one: part three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I remember when we were kids, Nathaniel, and you were almost the best of us, stronger than Jean—"
> 
> Up until this point, Neil’s been silent, letting Kevin’s tirade wash over him and ignoring it like oil in water. “No,” he says finally, the word sharp. “You call me that one more time, Kevin, and I’m leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter update, but i'm a sucker for that kevin/neil arguing? bonding? flirting??? whatever the hell they do whenever they interact
> 
> can't wait to get off this exposition train and into the DRAMA

“When was the last time you used your bending?” Kevin demands. Neil stares at him from across the makeshift training room that Kevin had dragged him to first-thing in the morning, unimpressed. “Nevermind. We don’t have time for _talking_ — not when you could be practicing right now. What was the last stance you used? You can _barely_ firebend? I don’t believe you. Bullshit. I remember when we were kids, Nathaniel, and you were almost the best of us, stronger than Jean—”

Up until this point, Neil’s been silent, letting Kevin’s tirade wash over him and ignoring it like oil in water. “No,” he says finally, the word sharp. “You call me that one more time, Kevin, and I’m leaving.”

Disbelief and agitation war with one another on Kevin’s face. “N — That’s not fair, Neil. It was a mistake. You need me to help you.”

Neil’s retort is vicious, just barely restrained. “I don’t _need_ anything from you.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Kevin asks, frustrated now. Good. Maybe he’ll stop ranting about things he couldn’t possibly understand. “At least answer me: when was the last time you firebended?”

Yesterday, but Neil’s not about to tell him that, not with his entitled expectation of an answer. 

He thinks about Andrew for the briefest of moments, pressing the sharpened edge of a blade against Neil’s jugular. He thinks about how, while firebending tends to be the flashier of the elements, there are still subtleties many don’t consider. He thinks about warming his own skin until it’s scalding, about the transfer of heat from his body and into the knife pressed against the palm of Andrew’s bare skin. He thinks about Andrew’s hiss of pain, and then chuckle of dark, focused amusement.

Somehow, the earthbender’s retreat hadn’t felt like a win.

This was such a terrible idea. Neil almost yearns for Kevin to call him _Nathaniel_ again so he has an excuse to turn tail and run. (Like he’s ever needed an _excuse_ before, his mother’s voice hisses in his head.)

She’s right. He needs to leave. The thought sets his spine to iron conviction. As soon as night falls, Neil’s leaving Ba Sing Se. It’s enough to know that Kevin is still alive, surrounded by his father and people he clearly cares about. It’s enough to know that at least one of them gets to _live._

“I don’t bend,” Neil says, because even though telling the truth feels like ripping his own fingernails off, he owes at least a partial explanation to the person who probably knows him better than anyone else still alive. “You think anyone feels good knowing that a firebender’s close by? You’re not a complete idiot, Kev. You know our only purpose is destruction, and I can’t risk someone catching me wielding fire, not when the entire world’s hostile toward us.”

Kevin lets out a wounded noise. Neil understands it in the way that only they can, and nods tersely.

Elemental bending is a core essential part of their existence. Denying one’s body what it craves starts out as an itch that slowly spirals out into an uncontrollable inferno. Every day that Neil refuses to bend is a day actively fighting against his own biological instinct, and the quiet itch that began beneath his skin when he was ten and fleeing the Fire Nation capital is now a constant prickling of near-agony. If he lets himself stop thinking about not bending, then Neil knows his body would rebel against him. It's exhausting, wrestling your very existence under control, but then again, Neil's had years of practice perfecting the art.

“You were going to tell me about Jean,” Neil deflects, because he doesn’t want Kevin’s pity. The pain Neil goes through is unfathomable to him, anyway: even if Kevin _believes_ he understands, he doesn’t. There’s no point in explaining that it’s likely the weight of not bending all of the four elements will kill Neil if his father doesn’t manage it first.

The mention of Jean tempers whatever new rant Kevin had been about to go on about Neil’s irresponsibility. He looks away, and Neil’s stomach turns uneasily. 

“Your mom knew,” Kevin says quietly. “What Riko was capable of. What he would do.”

Neil nods. He’d been young — they all had — but that had no impact on the memories of Riko’s gang. While they hadn’t been allowed the same privileges as the Avatar-hopefuls, Riko had still amassed a ferocious bunch of bullies that loved nothing more than the opportunity to rough the rest of them up when given the chance.

 _No permanent injuries_ had been Riko’s only stipulation. Neil got out when he was ten: he shudders to think of what had happened to Kevin and Jean, left behind and at the mercy of Riko’s rage after his escape. Though Mary had taken Neil for significantly more life-threatening reasons, she _had_ had an inkling of the Fire Lord’s youngest son’s capabilities. 

Kevin says, “Jean’s part of the Raven Eagles. All outward appearances indicate that he’s Riko’s righthand man, a commander just beneath Riko's authority. But you don’t understand what they’re like, Na — Neil. Whatever you experienced was only a fraction of his — their — cruelty.”

Given the winding scar across Kevin’s body, Neil can imagine that, as Riko grew older, his forms of torment grew more severe, especially with someone like Neil’s father so close at hand. Nathan always _had_ been particularly creative.

“I,” Neil starts. He’s hit with a wave of guilt at the thought of Jean still being there, _right now._ Neil got out. Kevin’s here, thriving. And they left him behind, in the hands of the one person who knew him well enough to manipulate him into constant agony. “Why can’t he escape?”

“He’s a public figure now,” Kevin says. “The notoriety makes it harder for us to get him out.”

Neil’s attention sharpens on Kevin’s utilization of _us._ “What does that mean? You’ve been planning something?”

“The Catfox Court is a refuge, you know that. Actively finding refugees to bring them here is merely an extension of that.”

Panic rises in Neil, an overwhelming tidal wave that drowns out everything but hysteria at the thought of getting caught in the one place launching a terrorist attack almost directly on the Fire Lord. Kevin is naive: though he survived Riko’s brand of cruelty, he will never outlive the full force of Admiral Wesninski’s full ire, should Neil's father catch wind of this plot. “For people to come if they need respite,” Neil spits out. “Not for you to kill yourself trying to infiltrate Capital City. If they learn that you're plotting treason, you’re dead. Everyone here will be dead. You can’t do anything to save him. He’s beyond help, and so are you.” 

“Not if we have the Avatar—“

Neil’s temper flares without his permission. “Good luck, then. I’m not going to be any part of this. I’m not going to firebend. What do you even _want_ from me, Kevin?”

“I want my best friends back and safe,” Kevin blurts out tactlessly, and then he grits his teeth. “If you weren’t so stupid, you’d let me teach you. You think you’re stronger without bending? Have you ever considered how much it could help you, to use the powers you’ve been given to defend yourself? You could be unstoppable, Neil, but you’re too much of a coward to see that.”

He storms out of the room; it’s a rare show of impulsivity. Kevin’s thoughts are always so meticulous, so planned out, that he almost never loses his temper in such a way. Irritation and frustration Kevin knows like the back of his hand, but this unbridled fury is new. It’s another piece of him that Neil’s never had the opportunity to learn.

Every part of Neil screams to run away. If the Catfoxes are planning anything that will put them on the Fire Nation’s radar — if they aren’t already — then he needs to be long gone before any of the Fire Lord’s men start knocking.

Especially when the _Fire Lord’s men_ tend to be Neil’s dear old dad.

He gives himself one moment to think about Kevin’s words, about the very concept of Kevin training him to bend. Fire is an innately destructive, offensive element, but Kevin’s not wrong: with enough training, Neil could build this tool in his arsenal until it’s strong enough to protect him. It would give him more time with Kevin and his makeshift family, and the opportunity to hone his skill in the ways he was never allowed to while on the run with his mother.

Then, carefully, deliberately, Neil swallows down the spark of hope until it’s extinguished. He can’t afford to be so visible.

He stayed the night, as per Allison’s request. He’ll eat a quick breakfast, Neil decides, and then he’ll leave. For good.  
  



End file.
